


The Warlocks' Circle

by RedOrchid



Series: Membership [7]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Exploration, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Overstimulation, Public Sex, Sex Club, Sex Magic, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: “It’s called the Warlocks’ Circle,” Magnus tells him, shifting back a little in his seat so that the only part of him still touching Alec is the spark of magic gently caressing the sensitive skin at the crease of his thigh. “Magic and magical items only. Clothes stay on. Everyone pretends discretion, but secretly loves showing off.”





	The Warlocks' Circle

**Author's Note:**

> More sex club fic! This one is very fluffy.
> 
> Big thanks to @letswastetime and @la_muerta for the beta. <3

The alcove Magnus leads him to tonight is much larger than the ones Alec has become used to since he and Magnus started coming to the club. It’s a circular space, lined with plush seats and with a large, low table in the centre. People are spread out in ones and twos, as well as in smaller groups, talking and having drinks together.

“Let’s grab the spot over there,” Magnus suggests, nodding his head towards a couple of empty seats.

Alec follows him, slightly bewildered. Excitement has been bubbling in his blood since Magnus casually suggested they “head down to the club for a bit”. His mind has already had time to spin through a number of possible scenarios—each one more exhilarating than the next.

Sitting on a couch, having drinks and making small talk, was not one of them, he has to admit.

He looks around the alcove. Maybe it’s some kind of waiting area? He knows that there are more spaces in the club than the public play area that he and Magnus like to frequent. There are private rooms, and themed rooms—even a room with a private pool, according to what he’s heard. Whoever makes the suggestion to visit the club usually picks the scene, and Alec knows Magnus—the more cool and collected he appears, the more devious his plan is.

“This is nice, don’t you think? Just taking an evening to relax together,” Magnus says. He scoots a bit closer, so that the entire side of his body is flush against Alec’s.

Alec makes a non-committal answer, even as he feels himself squirm a little in his seat. He can’t help it; by now, it’s like his body is hardwired to respond to even a mention of the club with instant arousal. He’s been half-hard since they walked through the door.

“How was your day, darling?” Magnus asks. His foot moves to cross over Alec’s ankle, and Alec briefly wonders when both of them lost their shoes and socks.

“Um. It was fine,” he replies, his heart starting to beat faster as Magnus’ toes slip beneath the hem of his pants, casually caressing a path up the back of Alec’s calf. “You know. Meetings. Paperwork. Nothing all that interesting.”

“Oh, I beg to disagree,” Magnus replies. “I always find your job exceptionally interesting. I think you should tell me all about it.”

Alec’s eyes widen as he feels the softest of touches move up his leg, circling his knee. He looks down at his lap; there’s a faint, blue glow shifting beneath the fabric of his pants.

_ Oh _ .

“Or maybe,” Magnus continues, a dark glint in his eyes, “you should tell me something else. Like how you would like my magic to get you off, right here, next to all these people.”

A moan travels, unbidden, up Alec’s throat. He presses his lips tightly together, forcing it back down. The blue spark of magic circles his thigh in slow, maddening touches, each one bringing it a little higher. He wants to protest the unfairness of the game—Magnus knows all too well how affected Alec gets by his magic in situations like this—at the same time that he wants to fall to his knees and thank whatever deity or fate that made Magnus’ path cross with his.

“I’m waiting, Alexander,” Magnus says. The touch of his magic stops, just shy of where Alec needs it, pulsing steadily and making Alec desperately want to spread his legs wider.

Alec wets his lips, and pulls a few breaths of sorely needed oxygen into his lungs. His eyes dart around the room again, needing to know if anyone has noticed what Magnus is doing to him, if anyone is watching. A couple on the opposite side of the alcove catches his attention; as Alec watches, a golden spark travels down the length of the woman’s throat, disappearing into the cleavage of her dress.

“Are they—Magnus, is this—?” His voice breaks as his eyes move to a group of three a few spots away from him and Magnus. They’re sipping what looks like champagne from a single glass, taking turns. With every swallow, the person taking it seems to glow briefly, their eyes fluttering closed in obvious pleasure.

“It’s called the Warlocks’ Circle,” Magnus tells him, shifting back a little in his seat so that the only part of him still touching Alec is the spark of magic gently caressing the sensitive skin at the crease of his thigh. “Magic and magical items only. Clothes stay on. Everyone pretends discretion, but secretly loves showing off.”

He emphasises his words by letting the spark of magic teasing Alec spread, the sensation turning from pointed and buzzing to an illusion of Magnus’ own hand, slick and warm as it wraps around Alec’s cock.

“Oh _ , fuck _ .” 

Alec feels his eyes roll back in his head, as Magnus’ magic starts stroking him. His body sags, sliding down the seat, hips automatically beginning to move into the touch. 

Magnus’ eyes flash gold, and the next moment, Alec finds his hips pinned down firmly by magic. It makes his blood pump faster and his head spin. His cock, still trapped in his pants, twitches, just from the idea that Magnus is planning to make him come fully clothed, in front of an audience he’s in somewhat of a competition with.

A muffled moan comes from the right, and Alec immediately turns his head towards the sound. Next to them, a woman with bright red hair raises an eyebrow in clear challenge, as her seelie companion trembles in his seat. As Alec watches, the man’s head falls back, his mouth opening in a silent scream as red tendrils of magic glow through the material of his clothes. A wet spot begins to form at the front of his pants, and Alec watches, fascinated, as the magic centres right below it, milking the man’s weeping cock until it has nothing more to give.

“I believe you still owe me an answer to my question,” Magnus says, pulling Alec back from where he’s been staring openly at the unknown couple. “My magic can do anything that you want—fulfil any fantasy you might have locked up at the back of your brain. So tell me, Alec, how would you like me to please you?”

Alec groans, trying in vain to buck his hips into the illusion of Magnus’ hand. He wants to reach out and pull Magnus closer, wants to rid both of them of their clothes and have Magnus take him roughly on top of the table in the centre of the alcove. The magic keeps him locked in place, however, and he bites off a moan that manages to escape despite his best efforts, as Magnus’ magic keeps up its steady rhythm on his cock.

“I—ah—I want you closer,” he finally manages, his words segueing into a soft groan as Magnus’ magic begins to spread, up his torso and down his thighs, making Alec feel like he’s drowning in the pleasure that follows in its wake. “Magnus, please.”

“Closer,  _ how _ ?” Magnus asks, and,  _ oh _ , Alec would really love to get his hands on him right now—grab him and push him down against the plush seat, spread his legs and bury his face between Magnus’ thighs until he’d wiped the smug smile right off his face.

His mouth waters at the thought. He wants the heavy weight of Magnus’ cock pressing down against his tongue, craves the heat of it, the feeling of something velvety smooth and still powerful enough to completely own him, filling him up, making Alec remember exactly where he belongs. He wants Magnus to straddle him, to pull down the zip of their pants and let the magic envelop both of them, to have them rub up against each other until they both come in thick, hot spurts all over Alec’s shirt. He wants to have Magnus on his back, his legs on Alec’s shoulders as Alec gets to bury himself inside. He wants Magnus to do the same to him. Really, there are just too many options. 

He pushes down another moan, trying to pull himself together. If he’s going to get what he wants, he’s going to need to  _ think _ . 

“I want you in me,” he says, after he manages to calm himself down a bit. He meets Magnus’ eyes, and almost loses his train of thought again at the burning desire he sees reflected in the deep, molten gold. “I want you to fuck me hard enough that you’ll have to gag me and tie me down to keep everyone in this room from knowing exactly what’s going on.” He pauses, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady, and then goes in for the kill. “And I want to somehow fuck  _ you _ while you do it.”

The look that overtakes Magnus’ face makes Alec worry that he’s pushed to hard for a second. That is, before the magic gently teasing him virtually explodes into a wave of crashing pleasure, leaving Alec gasping for air in its wake.

Magnus leans in and places the softest of kisses against Alec’s lips.

“Oh, how dearly I love you, Alexander,” he whispers, a tone that Alec can only describe as awe colouring his voice, before he captures Alec’s lips again, in a soaring kiss. Once they break apart, Magnus moves away, assuming his place at Alec’s side.

“Francesca, over there, likes to think that she can bring more pleasure to her partner than anyone else in the room,” he tells Alec quietly, tilting his head in the direction of the warlock with the red magic and her seelie partner, who’s still trying to catch his breath. “Want to help me prove her wrong?”

Alec is nodding fervently before the sentence is even fully out of Magnus’ mouth. The idea that other people would be not only watching, but taking their cues from them—pushing themselves higher and higher  _ because of what he and Magnus are doing _ —sets off a sharp wave of heat that wrecks havoc with his already overwhelmed system.

“Looks like they’re one up on us right now,” Magnus continues blithely. He moves a finger in a lazy circle around the rim of his glass, tutting in pretend disapproval. “That simply won’t do.”

Alec tries to think of an intelligent reply, but Magnus’ magic is already stroking its way up the back of his thighs, moving up to caress his ass and then circling inwards.

“ _ Magnus _ .” He sends his boyfriend a pleading look. The wet, hot pressure against his cock is making him lightheaded, but it’s nowhere near enough. He needs more. Needs Magnus.  _ Now _ .

Magnus lets out a quiet groan, and another surge of magic later, Alec has to grab onto the edge of his seat to keep himself from losing control as he feels a familiar, blunt pressure against his rim. The magical illusion of Magnus’ cock breaches him with the kind of short, focused thrusts that Magnus very well knows will drive Alec crazy. And right as Alec is letting out a shuddering breath, tilting his head back against the backrest of the couch to properly bask in the sensation, Magnus flips his world completely upside down.

Alec feels the light, warm presence of Magnus’ magic brush against his throat, realising its purpose a moment later when the sensation of Magnus’ hand stroking his cock changes into the tight, slick, perfect pressure of feeling himself sink into Magnus’ body in one, smooth stroke. The illusion of Magnus’ ass clenches around him, while the spell at his throat cancels any sound he makes. Alec grips the edge of his seat harder, his fingers turning white as he fights to keep himself under control. It turns out to be a nearly impossible task, as the pleasure shooting through him is made even more intense by the fact that Magnus is still sitting next to him on the couch, every piece of clothing perfectly in place.

“Don’t hold back,” Magnus tells him, as the magic inside him and on top of him both start to move. “Tonight’s not about keeping yourself on edge—you can come whenever and how many times you want.”

The words fan the flames that feel like they’re licking their way all through Alec’s bloodstream. He’s still reeling with the overwhelming feeling of being inside Magnus and having Magnus inside him at the same time—his body at a complete loss over what to focus on. The magic inside him picks up its pace, properly starting to fuck him now, at the same time as the illusion around his cock makes it feel as though Magnus is on top of him, pushing him down and moving his hips in slow, lazy circles. The whisper of magic at his throat comes and goes, somehow knowing exactly when Alec needs help in pushing back the sounds that keep rising up within him, and when to back off and let him handle things himself.

He manages to get his eyes open, turning his head towards Magnus. What he sees makes the magic instantly press down on his vocal cords, stopping a needy, desperate whine from leaving his throat.

Magnus’ glamour is long gone, his cat’s eyes shining bright beneath hooded lids as he watches Alec come apart. He looks immaculate, and unbelievably powerful, and Alec is so, so fucking lucky to have him.

“I—uh—oh,  _ fuck _ ,” he gets out, pathetically grateful for the way Magnus’ magic keeps him still as he feels the pleasure start to crest. “Magnus, I’m—” 

“ _ Good _ ,” Magnus replies. And that word alone is enough to push Alec over the edge, hurtling into a blinding orgasm while Magnus’ magic keeps him pinned against the couch and keeps he sounds he wants to make from physically leaving his mouth.

Magnus’ eyes are blazing when Alec comes back to himself. He’s leaning back against the couch, drink still in hand, looking every inch the sauve, powerful warlock, completely in control of himself and the world around him.

Apart from the fact that the hand that holds his drink is trembling slightly. And that Alec can feel just how hard he still is, with the way Magnus’ magic is virtually throbbing inside of him.

“Another drink?” Magnus asks, flicking his hand and making a tall glass of orange juice appear out of thin air. Alec takes it gratefully, letting the cool liquid soothe his overheated body. The sugar helps, too, providing the kick of extra energy he needs to push through the post-orgasm lethargy that wants to pull him down.

Once he finishes his drink, Magnus hands him another—ice water, this time—which helps clear his head further. Someone clears their throat next to him, and Alec turns his head, finding the red-headed warlock and her seelie partner raising their drinks to him and Magnus in a quiet salute.

Magnus stifles a laugh, and returns the gesture, exchanging a few words with Francesca that Alec doesn’t hear. Instead, his attention is absorbed by the minute twitches of the seelie’s hips, the way his lips part around shallow gasps of air, the glazed-over look in his eyes.

He knows that look; the other man is getting spectacularly fucked. By his partner’s magic.  _ Right next to Alec _ .

He swallows hard, unable to look away as the other man’s breathing speeds up, as his eyes flutter closed. The seelie’s hands grab onto the edge of his seat, the same way Alec’s had, and Alec watches in fascination, and with mounting arousal, as leaves and flowers spread from the man’s hands as his body goes perfectly still for a long, pulsing moment.

“Well, Francesca, I see you definitely haven’t lost your touch,” Magnus comments. He leans over towards the couple and picks a red flower from the growing bed of them, holding it out to her. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Francesca takes the flower with a pleased smile. “Neither have you, it seems. But I fear Aed and I have interrupted your conversation?”

It’s Magnus’ turn to smile.

Alec closes his eyes as the magic begins to move again, in slow, deep thrusts that set of sparks of pain-edged pleasure throughout Alec’s entire body. Magnus fucks him slower this time, savouring every push of his hips into Alec—as well as every push of Alec’s hips into  _ him _ . The dual sensations are enough to drive Alec out of his mind. He manages to get a short breather as Magnus catches the bartender’s attention to have him refill their drinks again—and an almost unbearable surge of heat runs through him as his eyes dart around the alcove meeting those of other people, several of whom look back at him with unconcealed desire.

“I want to feel you come inside me,” he tells Magnus, as he feels the magic pick up the pace again. “God, Magnus,  _ please _ .”

He reaches for Magnus’ hand, needing a point of physical contact to keep himself from getting completely lost in the magic, then gasping as the simple touch instead augments the magic to a point where he’s not sure he’ll be able to take any more of it.

“No touching,” Francesca sing-songs, causing Magnus to curse softly and pull his hand away, leaving Alec feeling a weird mix of bereft and grateful. “Magnus, Magnus. Someone as old as you should definitely try to set a better example for all the young warlocks in here.”

Magnus doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns completely towards Alec, his magic reaching out to caress the side of Alec’s face, tilting it towards himself.

“Close your eyes,” Magnus tells him quietly. “Lean back and let me just spoil you for a while.”

Alec lets out a shuddering breath and nods, closing his eyes in pleasure as the illusion of Magnus’ lips brush against his own. His body subconsciously curls closer, seeking Magnus’ touch. The magic holding him down gently pushes him back again, pressing his hips firmly into the couch before picking up its previous rhythm. Every touch of Magnus’ magic is a combination of too much and not enough, and the fact that Alec can’t do anything to control it—that he can only sit here and take it, for as long as Magnus wants him to—makes him fully hard again a lot faster than he honestly thought he was capable of.

Magnus keeps talking to him as his magic coaxes pleasure from every part of Alec’s body, telling him how good he feels, how well he’s doing. How lucky Magnus is to have him and how every warlock in the room would give their fortune to be in Magnus’ shoes right now.

The last part in particular pushes Alec right back up to the edge. He comes again, spilling into the illusion of Magnus’ body with a cry that quickly gets caught by the spell caressing his throat. Magnus fucks him through it, his magic covering every inch of Alec’s body now, filling him up, clenching around him, stroking him, teasing him, until Alec is trembling in his seat, every nerve ending in his body feeling as though it’s been rubbed raw with pleasure.

“Still want me to come inside you?” Magnus pants against his ear, his face so close to Alec’s now that Alec would only need to tilt his chin and push forward an inch or so to be able to kiss him.

“ _ Please _ ,” he manages, the single word morphing into a long, drawn out moan, that quickly turns soundless.

He’s too sensitive for the way Magnus’ magic keeps fucking him after that, the way the thrusts speed up and gain force as Magnus works his way closer and closer to his own orgasm. The stimulation morphs back and forth between pain and pleasure, the two intermingling until Alec can’t tell which sensation is which, anymore. He gives up his hold on reality, surrendering completely to the hard thrusts of Magnus’ magic within him. It’s too much. It’s not enough. He can’t take it anymore—but even just the thought that it might stop makes him desperate to cling to it.

Some remote part of his brain that’s still, somehow, functioning, is wondering what he looks like to the other people in the room. Whether Magnus’ magic is keeping his body still and silent enough to keep up the pretence of discretion, or if they’re breaking every rule in the book.

Part of him hopes they are; hopes that every warlock sees and hears just how perfectly Magnus takes him apart and puts him back together. Another part loves the paradox of this room: everyone can see, but no one can  _ really _ see—no one but them truly knows the details.

The feeling when Magnus comes and his magic simulates his release is indescribable. Pleasure washes over him, inside and out, wave after wave of heat soaring through his body. His spent cock gives a painful, overstimulated twitch, valiantly trying to join in, as he feels the magic fill him. He reaches for Magnus again—honestly can’t help himself—and buries his face against Magnus’ neck as the aftershocks run on a loop through both of them for what feels like forever.

“Please tell me I get to kiss you now?” he murmurs, once the worst of the tremors have passed. He can feel other people’s eyes on him, can hear the buzz of their conversations at the edge of his mind, but right then, none of that matters.

There’s only Magnus.

Magnus replies by taking Alec’s face in his hands, bringing him in for a deep, slow kiss that takes the last pleasure-shattered pieces of Alec’s heart and mind and melts them into something bright, and golden, and beautiful.

Alec moans into the kiss, and, this time, Magnus’ magic doesn’t stop him. When he does it again, a couple of the other patrons shush them. Laughter bubbles up in Alec’s throat.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Magnus suggests, letting go of Alec’s lips in favour of pressing a row of kisses down his neck. “Or do you want to stay for a while longer?”

Alec looks around the room. A few people are still openly watching them, but most have turned back to their own activities. To their right, Francesca and Aed have been joined by a third person, red sparks mixing with green ones as the two warlocks bracket the seelie between them.

“I’m good,” he replies. “Home?”

Magnus leans in for another kiss, nodding in confirmation as they pull apart.

They leave the Warlocks’ Circle side by side, arms wrapped tightly around each other’s waists.

END

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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